Can I Handle The Seasons of My Life?
by ErinLM
Summary: Rhiannon finally has life the way she wants it. A soon to be college grad with a budding music career, she's up for just about anything. But when her mother's mysterious death sends her back home she uncovers more than what she bargained for.
1. Helpless, Helpless, Helpless, Helpless

**Helloooooo. I hope you are having a great holiday so far! I got seasons one and four of supernatural for christmas. Yay! **

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :)**

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Rhiannon sat in her dorm room, trying to study for her very last theory test whilst listening to one of her favorite records: Fleetwood Mac's, _Rumors_. The relation of her name to one of the bands most well known songs was not a coincidence. Her parents had met at a Fleetwood Mac concert back in '76. She always found it funny how the origin of her name became one of her favorite musical acts of all time.

She hummed along to the music as she went over her theory papers. This was her final semester at Berklee College of Music. She was in the five year duel program, majoring in two areas of study: performance and music education. It had been the best five years of her life, being around people that finally understood her and what she was all about. Her passion was music. She lived and breathed it. If she could learn every instrument from every side of the globe, she would. The one thing she hated, though, was _theory_. She shook with disgust just thinking the word. The fact that it was all coming to an end excited her but depressed her all the same.

Her black ballpoint pen tapped to a beat of its own on her notebook. She always used black pens. They were just much more applicable than blue ones, plus, she thought they were prettier. She started singing. _"Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow. Don't stop, it'll soon be here." _She stood up on her bed and placed her pen to her pink lips._ "__It'll be better than before. Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone!"_ Her long, curly, brown hair bounced around her head as she jumped up and down on the worn mattress.

Rhiannon grinned and spun in circles. Things were going great. She was so excited to get her life started with school years behind her. She was 23. She was ready to apply her knowledge to the real world. She was ready for the change.

The last time she felt this elated was the day she got her acceptance letter to Berklee. She had grown up in a one horse town; same stuff, different day. Every morning she would wake up, go to school, come home, get her homework done, and then go to her job at the local mechanic.

The mechanic just so happened to be her Father, Thomas. He was a very tall, very menacing looking man. But if you knew him, he was the sweetest guy in the world, and very protective of his children. He had thick brown hair that all of the other Father's were jealous of. It had specks of grey in it now, a few laugh lines were on his face. Her Mother though, Claire, was as beautiful as Aphrodite herself. She had the same hair as Rhiannon, brown and curly. But her eyes were bright blue. Rhiannon's were hazel, like her Father's. Each of them shared the same porcelain skin, though, with freckles spread across their noses. Her Mom worked at the local pre-school in town. Her Mom had a way with kids. She was always cheerful and looked on the bright side of just about everything. She was somebody Rhiannon strived to model herself after, someone of whom she looked up to.

Rhiannon also had a brother, Jason. He was a few years older than her. He left town the day he had turned eighteen. Rhiannon had seen him a few times on Christmas, and had gotten a few postcards from him on her birthday, but he never showed his face in their home. She had always admired her brother, but it's hard to admire someone when they aren't there to admire. The biggest thing she admired was his ability to escape the place she dreaded. All of the teenagers dreaded it. Jason and Rhiannon had a common goal: freedom. They had each obtained it.

Rhiannon's phone started ringing. She jumped off of her bed, out of breath, and lowered the volume of the music. She read the caller ID with a smile.

"Hey, Dad!" She said cheerfully. "I was just thinking about you!" The other end was quiet. She put her finger in her ear to hear him more clearly. "Dad?" She repeated.

Her Dad sniffed. "Rhiannon, I have some bad news." His tone scared her. She stopped the music and sat down on her bed.

"What's wrong, Dad?" She pulled a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. He cleared his throat and then let out a long sigh.

"I...I don't know how to say this, sweetheart," he got chocked up.

"Dad," Rhiannon said, leery of what he was trying to get across to her. "Just tell me… please. You're draggin' this out too long here." She tried to lighten the mood, but no dice.

He let out a loud sob. "You're Mother died, Rhiannon."

Her jaw dropped in shock. "What?" She asked in disbelief. Her eyes burned with ready tears. "W-What do you mean?" Her lip quivered.

"I mean, she died, Rhiannon." She heard him crying. "I.. I found her a few hours ago."

"…Found her?" Her body began to shake.

"She killed herself." He didn't try to hide his sobbing. She could tell that he was shaking uncontrollably just like her. Rhiannon didn't know what to say. She couldn't speak. Her throat closed up. Bile crept up from her stomach, making her nauseous. She started to get dizzy.

"I'm gonna need you to come back home," he told her. "Just until things get sorted out, and for…. For the funeral."

She nodded even though he couldn't see.

"Alright, Rhiannon?" He asked.

"Y-yeah."

"I love you." He cried.

"Yeah." She closed her phone and pulled her knees to her chest, letting out the sobs that had welled up inside of her.

_Don't you look back.__Don't you look back._


	2. A Case of You

**Hello! This is my first story on here. The idea hit me and I just had to roll with it. I love Supernatural and everything about it so I'm really excited to share this with you. It is an OC and takes place during season two. I hope whoever is reading it is enjoying it! The chapters will get longer, I promise.**

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :) I'm deciding on a title, so this is it for now.**

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The sweet sounds of AC/DC blasted melodiously through the speakers of Impala. Dean and Sam Winchester each sat in their own little world. Sam had his nose stuffed in papers, trying to distract himself with a new case. Dean was wrapped up in his thoughts about his Father, the yellow eyed demon, and how they were going to get the colt back. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel. He rolled down the window and hung his arm out, patting the side of the car.

Dean turned to his brother. "What're we goin' here for again, Sammy?" He grinned. "Hopefully no more clowns."

"Signs of demonic possession," Sam replied shortly. He flipped through the pile of papers on his lap.

Dean took his eyes off of the road, giving his brother a scrutinizing look. Sam pretended not to notice. "How did you find out about it?"

Sam's eyes shifted. He looked out of the window and watched as they drove past rows of wheat and rolling hills. Sam closed his jaw tightly.

"Sam." Dean raised his voice, warningly. He waited for his brother to answer. When Sam refused, Dean pressed on. "Sam if you don't tell me how the hell you knew about this case-"

Sam sighed heavily, shutting Dean up. "I had a vision about it, okay?" Sam replied, obviously annoyed. Dean leaned back into his seat and faced the road again.

"There, was that so hard?" He asked.

Sam rolled his eyes and went back to his research. The ride was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being the roar of the Impala's engine. Dean kept throwing glances over at his brother, eyeing the papers in his lap. Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"Can you say something?" He exclaimed finally. "Jesus it's like study hall with Mrs. Reed all over again. That bitch didn't let us talk at all."

"What? I'm reading." Sam waved the paper he was holding out to his brother.

"Read it out _loud _then," Dean said in voice that indicated Sam should have known that already.

Sam huffed and started scrimmaging through their latest case file. When he found the one he was looking for, he let out a deep sigh and started reading.

"Claire Alexander, 53, was found strung up in her closet a week ago."

Dean waited for more. "And?"

"Her husband told the police she had been acting odd for a couple of days. Really distant, you know? Not herself at all."

"Just sounds like a regular suicide, Sammy," Dean said.

"I saw her in my vision, Dean," Sam replied sternly, reminding his brother of why they were going. Dean looked over at his brother, wanting to know what he had seen, but not wanting to make Sam feel uncomfortable by asking. So instead, he faced the road again. "And a week earlier there were a few other people who were put into the hospital with severe cases of amnesia."

"So you're definitely ruling out ghosts, right?" Dean asked. "You're sure it's demonic possession?"

Sam nodded curtly. "It has to be… because it's weird…"

"What part about our job isn't?" Dean chuckled. Sam didn't say anything. "What's weird?"

Sam turned towards his brother. "In my vision, Claire was smiling… when she, you know, did herself off." Sam looked at the papers, as if they were going to reveal the answer to him.

"And you think this all has to do with demons?"

"Yes. I mean, it… it has to be, right? What kind of person smiles before killing themselves."

"A really...messed up person," Dean created another excuse. He was tired. He didn't feel like hunting demons, but they had to. They had to get the colt back and kill that yellow eyed son of a bitch. "Maybe she was just happy to leave."

"That's not the point, Dean. Her husband and all of her friends and coworkers told the cops, who also knew her-"

"Small town, huh? Gotta love 'em."

"Which town that we go to isn't?" Sam replied. Dean shrugged, agreeing. "Anyway," he took a deep breath, "They all said that Claire was the happiest person they knew. Like, High School Musical, happy."

"That's pretty happy." The boys were silent for a minute. Dean opened his mouth to say something, his eyebrows knit together, like he was thinking. He turned to Sam and said, "Maybe she was just happy then, too." He grinned. Sam was not amused.

"I just want to check it out, okay Dean?"

Dean sighed. "Alright, Sammy. I have a question though."

"Shoot."

"Alright, well, the demons let the other people go with a bad demon hangover, why not Claire?"

Sam set his eyes on the road. "That's what we have to figure out."


	3. The Road's So Rough, This I Know

**Hello! I probably don't have any Readers yet, but I hope that if I do, you like this chapter! I've been going back and forth between a couple of ideas of where to take it from here all day. I decided on this one. You'll see in the next chapter :) **

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :) I'm deciding on a title, so this is it for now.**

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"Great," Rhiannon muttered. Her car had been making strange noises for the past mile. She was only a few more away from town, but the long dirt road seemed never ending from where she was. She managed to maneuver her 1976 Cadillac Eldorado to the side of the road just before the sputtering of the engine sounded. "Piece of crap, car."

She tore the key out of the ignition angrily. Rhiannon took a deep breath to compose herself. She was already late for work at the bar. Her Dad was going to give her hell. She got out of the car reluctantly, grunting. The door rattled as she slammed it. She scowled at the rust that had taken over the once red exterior. She would have gotten rid of it hadn't been her Mom's.

It had been a week since her Mother had died, but to her it felt like years. To hear her voice, she would watch home videos. To feel close to her, she would drive her car. Rhiannon's Father was very distant. He worked in the car shop all day and then watched over his bar at night. Rhiannon's brother had come home for the funeral. His mind was even farther away than their fathers. As Rhiannon got her tools out of the back, she was pulled into a reverie.

_Jason shuffled his way into the church where the memorial service was being held. His jeans were dirty and the black shirt he wore, probably the only one he had, was wrinkled. He shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the front pew where Rhiannon and their father sat. He took the seat next to his sister. She looked up at him, shocked that he was even in the same room. _

_"I did **not** think you'd be here," she said. Tears were streaming down her face. Jason looked down at the ugly, stained, church carpeting. He didn't answer. He only looked up at his Mother's casket and dropped his head once again to pray. _

Rhiannon thought that the wake would be harder to get through. Her Mother's pictures stared at her, as if they were silently saying, 'you could have stopped this. You knew...'

No, what tortured Rhiannon was that she had to talk to people afterwards. Her neighbors, men and women that she had grown up around, were all sobbing quietly, giving their condolences, as if that would make Rhiannon feel better; like she wasn't the only one who was mourning, and she had to say 'thank you' and 'I appreciate that' and pretend that she cared what they had to say. "You're not alone in this. We're all here to help. If you need somebody to talk to, we're here for you."

Truth is, she could've cared less what the town thought, much less if they were capable of helping. It was her Mother that had died; her flesh and blood. Nobody would ever know what that felt like for her. She grew bitter with each hand she shook.

_"It kinda sucks having to talk to everybody," Jason popped up next to her. She jumped, clutching her heart._

_"Jesus, Jay!" She exclaimed, eyes wide. _

_"Ah, ah, ah," he clucked his tongue. Jason pointed a dirty finger to the ceiling. "We're in Gods house. Don't use that word in vain."_

_Rhiannon couldn't help but smile. She wrapped her arms around her brother. Jason did the same._

_"I've missed you, Jay." Rhiannon looked up at him. She noticed how much her brother had changed since last they spoke. He looked weather worn, with stubble on his face and bags under his bright blue eyes…their Mom's eyes._

_"I've missed you too," he smiled sadly. He rubbed her shoulder and pulled her closely to him again. _

_"How long are you here for?" She hoped for a good answer. She needed her brother more than ever. _

_"I'm leaving right now," he answered truthfully. "I just wanted to see you and Dad, and," he looked back at the casket, "say bye to Mom." _

_"You're leaving?" Her eyes screamed of accusation. The people who were next in line to say they were sorry shifted awkwardly and pretended to look busy._

_"What am I supposed to do, Ree?" He asked, opening his arms and taking a step back. "I have a job that I have to do, and to tell you the truth, I want to leave, because people have done nothing but look at me like I'm an alien the whole time I've been here."_

_Rhiannon clenched her jaw and inhaled deeply through her nose. "Maybe if you showed your face around here more often they wouldn't be," she spat._

_Jason let out an exasperated sigh. "Can we not do this here, Rhiannon? Please? Now is not the time." He shoved passed her towards the door. She looked apologetically at the couple who had been waiting, mouthing a 'sorry', and then excusing herself so she could follow her brother._

_ "When is it going to be 'the time', Jason?"She tugged on his shoulder and he spun back around, rolling his eyes. "I need my brother."_

_"Why don't you just go back to Berklee?" He asked her, annoyed that they were, in fact, getting into it now._

_"Because Dad needs help, and I'm going to help him!" Rhiannon's outburst gained the attention of a few close townsmen. Jason sniggered at them. Rhiannon let out a small shriek of frustration and pushed him out of the church doors. She followed and closed the doors behind them. They stood awkwardly on the front steps. _

_"Jason, what's so important that you'd leave your family in a time like this? Mom just died. I don't have anyone but Dad, and he's not even talking," she cried. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and placed the other on his hip. "The least you can do is help me get things sorted, at least for another day."_

_"I just can't be here, Rhiannon. I need to leave. I gotta get back to my job," he repeated. Rhiannon scoffed in disgust and crossed her arms. _

_"Alright, go ahead. Leave like you always do. See if I care." Rhiannon glared at her brother. She couldn't believe that he was leaving once more. She looked down at the ground and tried her best to hold in her sob. Jason stared at her helplessly, but shook his head and looked away._

_"One day you'll understand why I'm never around," he said hoarsely, "and you'll thank me." _

_When Rhiannon finally had the nerve to look up, Jason was already halfway down the street. He had the pace of a New Yorker. She wanted to convince him to stay, but she learned long ago that you can't make people do what they don't want to. She unraveled her arms and walked back inside. _

Rhiannon tinkered away at the busted engine. She knew her way around a car. She basically grew up in her Dad's mechanic shop. While other girls were at ballet class, her Dad was giving her lessons on engine repair.

"Come on," she grumbled. It was getting late. The sun was setting over town, creating an orange and purple sky. The air grew heavy with late afternoon dew. "Please," she begged the inanimate object. She hung her head when her attempts failed miserably. It took all of her might not to cry. She was fed up and just wanted to go home. So, she tried again, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She tossed her leather jacket to the side. After about thirty minutes, she heard an engine roar. For a split second she thought she actually brought the Eldorado back to life, but when she looked up, she realized the source of the noise was a sleek, black car inching down the road towards her.

She tilted her head to the side, eyes becoming little slivers as she tried to get a better glimpse. It was an Impala, she was sure of it. Come to think of it, she could have sworn she had seen one just like it before…

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Thank you for reading! The italics in this story are going to be used for flashbacks. More to come soon! I know it's taking a long time to get up to where the boys actually come in, but trust me, it will be very, very soon!


	4. Rhiannon

**Hello! I probably don't have any Readers yet, but I hope that if I do, you'll like this chapter! I've been clueless with this lately. You know, when you know where you want the story to go? You have it all planned out except the beginning? That's me right now. I'm goin' in blind, but don't hate me. I promise it will get better. It's slow right now, but the ball will start rolling soon.**

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :) I'm deciding on a title, so this is it for now.**

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Sam and Dean drove down the only road in and out of town. The sun was setting, temperature dropping, and they were tired.

"How much longer?" Dean whined to his brother.

"It's right down the road," Sam replied. He had finally put his papers away. The boys fell silent.

As they reached town, Dean saw something that caught his eye on the side of the road. He cheered. Sam looked at him like he was insane.

"Now this is what I call a welcome party," he grinned happily to himself and slowed the car down.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

Dean pointed to what he was looking at. "Hot chick." Sam followed his brother's gaze. When he saw the object of his brother's desire he sighed.

"Dean we're here to do a job, not to get you laid."

"It's like you don't know me at all, Sammy," Dean clapped his brother on the back. Dean pulled up next to the girl. She had dark curly hair and was bent over her hood.

"Nice car," Dean called. The girl pulled her face out of her car's engine and looked towards them, bewildered. Dean grinned at her and waved slightly. "76 Eldorado?"

"Yeah," she looked at him curiously, almost like she was scrutinizing him. "And you're driving an Impala."

Dean shared an impressed glance with Sam. They turned back to her. "You having some trouble?"

She laughed and looked back at the piece of useless machinery. "It's an old car." She wiped her grease laden hands onto the rag she was holding and looked back at Sam and Dean. "I knew it's time would come eventually."

He twisted his head to get a better look at the car. Smoke was coming from the hood. That thing wasn't going to start up for a while. "Want us to give you a lift?" He asked politely. Sam threw his brother a look. Dean ignored it. His eyes were glued to the woman in front of him.

"Uh," she looked back at her car. "That's okay. I think I have it under control. Even so, I could always just walk." She looked down the road. The town was visible from where she stood. "It's not that far."

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Dean asked, watching her close the hood of the car.

"Yeah, it was just busted up a bit," she replied as the hood snapped shut. She tossed her jacket and rag into the passenger seat.

"At least let us make sure you get back to town okay," he said.

She shook her head. "I'm fine, really. Thank you though."

Dean leaned back in his seat and looked at her in disbelief. "Alright, if you insist. Have a good night." He let his foot off of the break and the car started rolling again. He looked into his rearview mirror and watched the girl hop into her car.

"Tough break," Sam smiled at his brother.

Dean put his eyes back on the road. "Shut up," he muttered. "These chicks, man. They're getting harder and harder to smooth talk."

"You call that smooth talking?" Sam laughed. Dean glared at him. They suddenly heard a loud sputtering noise from behind them. Dean looked into his rearview mirror again. Her car had broken down once more. Dean smirked at his brother, who only rolled his eyes. Dean put the Impala in reverse and didn't stop until he was next to her again. He smiled at her. She crossed her arms and looked at him in amusement from her driver's seat.

"We've got nowhere to go but straight," he tried to convince her. She looked at him for a few seconds before smiling. She sighed heavily.

"Alright," she laughed. She grabbed her leather jacket, her purse, and got out of her car.

"Hop on in!" Dean exclaimed. Sam reached behind him and opened the door.

"Thank you," she scooted into the back seat. "I'm Rhiannon by the way."

"Rhiannon? Like the Fleetwood Mac song?" Dean asked.

She nodded. "Yup! And to whom do I owe my sincerest gratitude?"

"Dean," he turned towards and stuck his hand out. She took it in hers. They shook for a few moments. Rhiannon looked deep into his eyes. She could have sworn she had seen him somewhere before. Everything about him gave her a weird deja-vu feeling, from the Impala to his brown faded leather jacket, and she had most definitely witnessed those eyes.

"Do I know you?" She asked curiously. "You look…familiar."

"I do?" He looked at her with a slightly impish grin. "Have we ever...? " Dean made a gesture with his hands.

Rhiannon looked at him, aghast, "What? No! No." She pulled a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. Dean made a face. "Noooo," she laughed nervously.

"Jesus, don't sound so thrilled." Dean turned back in his seat and faced the road, feeling a bit put-off.

Sam took this as a chance to introduce himself. "I'm Sam."

"Hey Sam." They shook hands. "It's nice to meet you." Dean started driving again. They made their way towards town. "Thank you so much, guys. You're really saving my ass right now."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked. "Why's that?"

Rhiannon sighed. "Work," she stated. "If I'm late again my boss will kill me."

"Well, we're happy to help." He told her.

Sam turned towards her. "Where's your work?"

"The bar. I work there week days, bar tending. I also perform there on my breaks." She told them.

"Perform?" Dean asked curiously.

Rhiannon smiled. "I sing and play guitar."

Dean pursed his lips and nodded approvingly. "Awesome. What do you like to play?"

She thought for a moment. "Ah, that's so hard," she chuckled. "Mostly 60s and 70s stuff."

Dean looked back at her and grinned. "Seriously? That's the best era of music."

"I know, right?" She exclaimed.

"And when you're not spending your time serving drunken idiots?" Sam asked. Dean gave him a look, himself being a drunken idiot on occasion.

She laughed. "I work at the mechanic." Dean glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "I know what you're thinking, but that car? Not my fault."

"What'll become of it anyway?" He asked. "You just gonna leave it there?"

She shook her head. "No. I'll send a tow truck out here later."

"You're not worried about anybody stealing it?" Sam asked. They were entering town now. There was one main road with one of everything, one grocery store, one gas station, one mechanic, one hospital, one bar, and houses.

"Nah, it's a small town. Everybody knows everybody. I trust them."

"So you grew up here?" Dean asked. Just because he had picked up a hot girl didn't mean there still wasn't a case to solve.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I lived here with my parent's and my brother. It's this bar right up here," She pointed to the only bar. Rhiannon's phone started to ring. "Hello?" She answered. Sam and Dean tried not to look like they were eavesdropping. "Yes, I'm right outside!" Dean parked right out front. "I'm sorry! I had car trouble," she muttered. She opened up the door and climbed out. She poked her head into the driver's side window. "Thank you so much you guys. Maybe I'll see you around!" She waved. Dean watched her walk inside.

"Dude," he said, hitting his brother's chest. "Dude we need to go inside."

"What? No, Dean, come on."

Despite Sam's protests, Dean jumped out of the car. "Sammy, park the car." He walked towards the bar.

"Dean!" Sam called angrily.

"Hey, Rhiannon!" Rhiannon turned around, hanging up her phone. She grinned. "Wait up!"

Together, while Sam parked the car, Rhiannon and Dean walked into the bar. Circular tables were placed strategically throughout the main area. There was a small stage. The actual bar was to their left. It definitely had rustic feel to it, but then again, every bar that Dean had been in over the years looked the same.

"Not your busiest day, huh?" Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed Rhiannon over to the bar.

"I wouldn't say so, no," she chuckled. She placed her jacket underneath the countertop and pulled out a beer. She handed it to Dean. "Compensation for pulling me out of deep shit."

Dean took it out of her hand gently and tipped it towards her. "Thanks. This is much needed."

"So what are you and your brother doing here?" She asked.

Dean took his lips off of the beer bottle and looked at her curiously. "How did you know we were brothers?"

Rhiannon was caught of guard. She didn't know why she had said that herself. "Uhm...I... I don't know. Lucky guess?" She started cleaning glasses.

He put his mouth back to the bottle, eyeing her apprehensively. Once he took another swig, he answered. "We're here investigating the death of Claire Alexander." Rhiannon froze in the midst of wiping out one of the shot glasses. She swallowed hard. Dean noticed this. "Dean you know her?"

Rhiannon cleared her throat, trying to choke back her tears. She had already freaked out enough today. She didn't need to break down in front of a stranger. "Yeah, she was my Mom." She tried to smile at Dean, but it just came out as a pitiful half-smile that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Oh..." Dean leaned back. "I'm.. I'm sorry for your loss."

Rhiannon nodded, reassuringly. "Thank you. It's uh, it's been hard."

She started placing glasses on the countertop. "I can imagine," Dean started. Rhiannon looked up at him. "I've recently lost someone myself."

"I'm sorry," Rhiannon frowned.

Dean shrugged. "It happens. You can't let it get you down, right?" He took another swig of beer. Rhiannon shook her head.

"I try not to let it, but it doesn't change anything. I mean, I try to sing to get my frustration out, but it's not the same."

"You should try alcohol," Dean told her. She laughed. Dean found himself grinning at her laughter. When she looked up at him again, he cleared his throat.

"You said you were here _investigating_?" She asked.

"Mmm," Dean grunted, pulling out his fake FBI I.D.

"You don't strike me as FBI," she told him.

Dean tucked his fake ID into his jacket and folded his arms on the table. "That's 'cause I'm undercover now."

Rhiannon looked at him in disbelief. "What does the FBI want with my Mother's suicide?"

"We'd just like to talk to a couple people, that's all."

Rhiannon was about to reply when her father called. "Rhiannon!" He yelled. She sighed and placed the glass she was working on, on the countertop.

Before she left, she placed another beer in front of Dean. "For you brother, whenever he comes in." Dean smiled. "Duty calls," she excused herself. Dean raised his glass her way, and watched her back as she went to talk to her boss.

Sam sat down next to him at the bar. "Did you get her number yet?"

Dean shook his head. "I got something better."

"Really?" Sam asked. "What?"

"Rhiannon?" He looked at his brother. "She's Claire's daughter. Maybe she'll know something we don't."

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**The ball will get rolling soon, I promise.**


	5. Landslide

**Helloooooo. I hope you are having a great holiday so far! I got seasons one and four of supernatural for christmas. Yay! **

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :)**

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Dean watched Rhiannon as she talked to her boss. They seemed to be in some sort of verbal argument. Her arms were flying everywhere. He couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud country music playing from the juke box next to the stage.

"You think that Rhiannon knows something about her Mom's death?" Sam asked, watching too.

"Uh huh. I hope she does, anyway." He took another sip. When they saw Rhiannon turn angrily on her heel, Sam and Dean each turned towards each other and pretended like they were in a deep conversation. Rhiannon saw straight threw that though. She started working again, only this time quietly. The brothers actually jumped when she slammed a glass on the counter.

"That's my Dad," she told them. "I know you want to talk to people and stuff. So, he's over there," she pointed. Dean and Sam looked. He was a middle aged man with thick brown hair. He was tall and lean, and looked like he might have been a heartthrob in his prime. Dean didn't want to talk to him. If he could have his way, he would have spent the rest of the night talking to Rhiannon about rock music and drinking beer, but he was an FBI agent. He quickly got into the mindset as he and Sam walked over to him.

"Thomas Alexander?" They flashed their badges. "I'm Agent Jagger, this is Agent Tyler." Rhiannon's father squinted at the badges, deemed them passable, and then went back to whatever he was doing before.

"Do you mind if we ask you some questions?" Sam asked. They put their badges away.

Mr. Alexander looked up at them, peering over his glasses. "About what?" He asked.

"Your wife, Claire," Dean said. "We understand she committed suicide about a week ago."

They could tell that her death had greatly effected him. Almost immediantly, his eyes grew bloodshot and he started shaking. "What does the FBI have to do with this?"

"We're just taking precautions," Dean clarified.

"My wife...killed herself," Mr. Alexander said, his voice was shaking, "in our bedroom closet," he shook his head. "I don't see any need for the government to get involved."

"Trust me, Mr. Alexander," Dean said, "it's for your own good."

Rhiannon's father shook his head and let out a sob.

"Now, sir, did your wife have any enemies?" Sam asked.

"Enemies? In a town like this? Of course not. We all know each other. We've grown up together. My wife was one of the nicest people in town. Why would anybody want to hurt her?"

Dean chuckled darkly. "Believe me, it happens." Mr. Alexander's jaw dropped slightly. He swallowed hard.

"Please excuse me, gentleman. I need to talk to my daughter." He turned off the juke box.

"Of course," Sam nodded. They watched him walk away.

"It wasn't her husband, we know that for sure," Dean said.

"Of course it wasn't the husband, Dean, I _saw_ her do it to herself!"

Dean rolled his eyes. He and Sam walked back to their seats at the bar. Rhiannon walked passed them. Dean touched her arm lightly. She faced him.

"You okay?" He asked, the truest hint of sincerity in his voice. He didn't know the girl, but he knew what it was like to lose somebody and want to shut the world out.

She nodded. "I'm going up on stage now. Did you get everything you needed?" He couldn't help but detect hostility in her voice.

His eyes softened. "Almost," he told her. He grinned. "Good luck."

Rhiannon was entranced by those green eyes. "Thanks." She had never seen a pair like them before. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere. She smiled, lips taut, and walked away from him. She made her way onto the stage.

Dean and Sam each grabbed their beer.

"So what do you think?" Sam asked.

"I think it's what you said it is," Dean replied, eyes never leaving Rhiannon. She grabbed her acoustic guitar, pulled the strap over her head, and began tuning her guitar. There were a few guys in the front row. No doubt they were drunk out of their minds. What else was there to do in a town of this seize? If you were a demon, possessing people seemed like a pretty fun way to pass the time. But why possess and then continue to murder one of the happiest people?

"Wouldn't a demon know that Claire's death would take everyone by storm?" Dean asked. "If she was as happy as everyone says she was?"

"I think we need to go talk to the few survivors at the hospital," Sam answered. "Do you-"

"No," he answered quickly. "Not now. Later, man, I want to watch her."

"That's not creeper-ish at all," Sam mumbled. Dean rolled his eyes.

Rhiannon stepped towards the microphone and cleared her throat. "Hey guys. I'm only gonna be playing three songs today. I have a lot of stuff I have to get done. If anyone sees a '76 Cadillac Eldorado, don't touch it. It's mine." She smiled at the few laughs she got from the men in the front row. "This song," she rested her arm on the top of her guitar, "It was one of my Mom's favorites. She used to sing me to sleep with it. So, I hope you enjoy it, and, try not to pass out." Dean smiled. She started picking the prettiest notes he'd ever heard.

_"I took my love, I took it down. I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills, till the landslide brought me down. Oh, mirror in the sky what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? Mmmm I don't know. Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I've built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too. Ohhh.." _

"Hey, she's pretty good," Sam said into his brother's ear. Dean agreed. The fact that she knew her music made him want her even more.

Rhiannon leaned into the mic as she sang. Her fingers knew what to do as the picked the strings effortlessly. She had always loved the way instruments echoed in an empty room, and this room was no exception. She didn't care that she was playing in front of a total of ten people who were probably to drunk to understand a word she was saying. She wasn't at Berklee so she'd have to get used to performing here. There was nothing for miles.

She thought about the words as she sang. This used to be her lullaby. Even away at college, her Mom would sing it for her over the phone when times got tough. She didn't know what she would do without her. It felt as if there was a void in the middle of her chest, this ache that wouldn't go away. She tried hard not to cry. She saw the two brothers watching her, Sam and Dean, and thought about how strange it was that the FBI would involved itself in her Mom's suicide. It was suicide. Nobody had murdered her mother. Nobody in this town was cruel enough. And where the hell had she seen Dean? Or the Impala? Or his brown leather jacket? She pushed that aside for now. The FBI was the least of her worries.

What would she do if her life changed anymore than it already had? I wouldn't be able to handle it, she thought. She closed her eyes to steady her nerves. She wasn't nervous to play, just that all of these thoughts were running through her head. Once she finished, those who were not unconscious, clapped. She look for her father, but she knew he had disappeared into his office. He had been acting stranger lately, cruel almost. Out of curiosity, she looked over at Sam and Dean. They were clapping. Dean smiled at her. She continued her three song set, and once she was done, exited the stage feeling much calmer than before.

"That was awesome," Dean told her when she walked behind the bar again.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Another beer?" She asked. Dean put up his hands in refusal.

"No, thank you. Sam and I, we're gonna split. Go down to the hospital to see what we can find out."

She nodded. "Alright guys," she started cleaning the countertop. "Let me know what you guys figure out."

They put their jackets back on and stood up. Sam started for the door. Dean stayed behind. "If you think of anything, anything at all," he wrote his number down on a napkin, "call this. I'll be on the other end."

"Okay," she chuckled. "And thanks again for the ride." Dean smiled contently and followed his brother out of the bar. Rhiannon watched them get into their Impala, which Sam managed to park across the street. As it drove off, something really sharp shot through her brain like a really bad migraine. She seethed and grabbed her head in her hands. She closed her eyes tightly. Images of a black car much like the Impala flashed across her mind. Dean's jacket. His eyes. The two FBI agents holding guns, their faces bloody.

Once the spell passed, she held onto the edge of the countertop tightly. Her breathing was jagged and her heat beat was unusually fast.

Her friend Todd walked in. "Hey!" He greeted her happily. He sat down at the bar. "Hey, you alright?" He asked her, noticing her distres. Rhiannon exhaled deeply and rubbed her temples.

"Mmm yeah. Yeah. I'm fine," she waved his worry away. "I get weird migraines sometimes... Did you get my text?" She changed the subject and placed a beer down in front of him.

Todd laughed. "Yeah. Ray, you really have to take better care of your cars. It's in the shop now though, don't worry."

"Thank you so much," she started stacking shot glasses out of bordom. "I really do need a a new car."

"You needed a new car like, five years ago," he joked.

"Shut up, you know that car is my Mom's," she frowned.

"I know, I know, and it'll be done by tomorrow. I promise."

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Any time. So, what's this talk about FBI agents in town, huh? Did you do something bad? Huh? huh?" He sat up in his chair like a little kid about to learn a dirty secret. His eyes glistened. She laughed at him.

"No. They're investigating my Mom's suicide. There's two of them. They gave me a ride into town when my car broke down." She got herself a bottle of water.

"Is one of them of the female sex, and if so, does she look like Dana Scully?" He licked his lips.

Rhiannon cracked the lid of her water. "No, sorry. They're both guys."

"Did they try hitting on you?" He asked. She brought the bottle to her lips.

"Maybe," she smiled mischievously before taking a sip.

* * *

A few hours later, Sam and Dean walked out of the hospital. They knew what they were up against for sure now: Demons. All of the amnesia patients didn't remember a thing, and some even remembered not remembering, but knew they should have remembered.

"I told you," Sam exclaimed as they got into the Impala.

"You want a cookie?" Dean asked, annoyed. He started the car.

"You have one?" Sam countered.

Dean scoffed. "Shut up." He started driving back down the main road. It was around nine o clock at night. He was grumpy and he needed sleep.

"So will I be expecting you at the motel tonight?" Sam asked smugly.

"What do you mean?" Dean rubbed his eyes.

"I mean, are you going to go talk to Rhiannon again?"

Dean grinned. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"I really don't think she's going to put out for you, Dean."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

Sam shrugged. "She seems like a girl who doesn't let men objectify her."

"Memememe," Dean mocked his brother.

Sam laughed. "You know, besides us being one hundred percent sure that this was a demon attack, we know something else, too." Dean glanced at his brother, confused. "They all have some sort of relation to her."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"I mean, all of them in some way of form, have either taught Rhiannon through the years, or they're close family friends. All of them."

Dean was stumped. "That's weird."

"I think we need to have a little talk with Rhiannon, again."

"What are you saying, you think Rhiannon is the demon?"

Sam shrugged. "You never know-"

"Listen, she's probably a lot of things. But demon? I don't buy it."

"We just have to be sure, Dean," Sam fought.

"Whatever," Dean huffed. "What do you want to do? Follow her around town?" He looked over at Sam, who only looked back at him. "Sam," Dean frowned. "Come on."

* * *

Sam and Dean kept a low profile as they kept an eye on Rhiannon. It wasn't hard. They stayed parked in one spot. They didn't find out much. She checked on her car, bought a few groceries, and then went home.

"Go to her house," Sam instructed Dean. Dean only glared at his brother.

"I think we know she's not Regan MacNeil by now, Sam, can we just find a motel and sleep?"

"The motel is on Main Street. It doesn't take much finding," he answered quickly. Dean groaned, but nonetheless followed her home. They parked around the corner as to be discreet. Rhiannon walked up her front porch, fished her key out of her purse, and opened the door. They watched the house for an hour, but nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Before he knew it, Dean's heavy eyelids were closing on their own. Sam didn't try to protest, for he was already sleeping.

* * *

_Rhiannon's head was filled with horrible images. Horrible images of horrible things._

_She was in a room but she wasn't really there. She didn't see herself anywhere. It looked like her parents room. It was her parents room. Afternoon light was streaming in through the lace curtains. She saw her Mother walk in. She was humming a song while she folded laundry on her bed. _

_Out of nowhere, a huge mass of black smoke entered the room. It clouded her vision. She couldn't see anything. When it disappeared, her mother was standing there. But it wasn't really her mother, it didn't feel like her anyway. Then her Mother's eyes turned black, and she walked into the closet, never to come out. The door swung open, and there hung the deceased. _

_Bright lights flashed everywhere. Lights flickered. The black smoke left her mom's lifeless, swinging body. More bright lights. Rhiannon saw swiftly moving images of an Impala, and two very familiar looking men. A beat up brown leather jacket. Green eyes. _

_She heard a gun shot, and then a scream. Blood everywhere. More screams. Black eyes circled her. _

_And then everything disappeared, and a man with yellow eyes stood in front of her. He was talking to her. "It's almost time," he said with a grin. "Everything is about to fall into place." He dissipated, but his words echoed. _

Rhiannon shot up in bed, covered in a cool sweat. Tears ran down her cheeks. She was breathing heavily, the same after effects of the headaches she'd been getting lately.

She didn't know who the man with the yellow eyes was, or what he was talking about._ I'm was going crazy, _she thought._ It's just stress. _She lay back down and forced herself back into sleep, even though she hated what she might find if she closed her eyes.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Rate if you can! I'd appreciate it a lot! Let me know this story isn't a complete waste of fanfiction space hahah :) 3 lots of lovee33


	6. Wake Up

**Hey guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. It's been a crazy few weeks! I hope you like this chapter. It's my favorite so far.**

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :)**

* * *

The next morning, Rhiannon tried to force the memory of her bile churning nightmares to the back of her mind. It was just a…a totally bizarre, horrible, recurring dream. Most people had nightmares after losing loved ones. It was completely normal…

She untangled herself from her bed sheets and placed her feet firmly on the ground. She sat up. Her fingers curled around the edge of her mattress as her head began to throb. She sat still, head hung, trying to ease the unbearable pressure. She must have gotten up too fast. Once she was certain she wouldn't fall on her face, she pushed herself up and stretched.

Sunlight was spilling in through her curtains, creating weird patterns on her blue carpet. But the sun seemed brighter than usual due to her eyes being sensitive from the migraine. Rhiannon used her hand as a visor and stared at the window. She glanced at her curtains, the same curtains her Mom had in her room. Her mind went back to her nightmare, and she saw images of her mother's delicate frame against the floral wallpaper and the lace curtains, and the again hung up in her closet. She seethed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered. She inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes tightly before opening them again. She looked up at the ceiling and let out a long sigh. She was tired of these headaches. Her only answer concluded to stress. It had to be.

But Rhiannon was lying to herself. She'd been having nightmares likes these for about a year and a half. It all started when she was twenty-two, in her fourth year at Berklee. Her fourth year had been a very stressful one, and the added horror of her Mother's death wasn't going to make it all go away. She thought it was all getting better; it must have been for her to have forgotten the severity of the headaches.

Rhiannon walked out of her room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Once she got inside, she locked the door, grabbed two towels out of the cabinet, hung them on the towel rack, and then started the water. She climbed into the shower. The hot water and steam immediately made the tension in her head release. After a good twenty minutes, Rhiannon got out and dried herself off. As she walked back into her room, she heard her Dad yell downstairs.

"Dad?" She ran down the stairs. When she reached halfway, her Father was already walking towards her.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, honey," he cleared his throat, "Just burnt my finger on the damn toaster." He shook his head. "Todd called," he informed her, "said the car's almost finished. I'm gonna go over and check it out." Her father grabbed his coat from the coat rack and slipped it on. "Make sure you're not late again, okay?"

Rhiannon nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that….it won't happen again." Her father nodded curtly and then walked out of the house. She sighed and made her way back to her room. She stood in her window and watched him drive off. The day before, they had gotten into a huge argument over her being late. She'd never seen him that angry before. It worried her. As her eyes followed her Dad's car, they settled on another very familiar sight: the FBI agent's Impala. She tilted her head to the side, wondering what it could be doing there. Quickly, she threw on a pair of blue skinny jeans, a white quarter sleeve button up v neck, her leather jacket, and her faded black doc martens. They had been a birthday present from her brother a few years back and she wore them almost every day.

She peered out of her window again and saw that the car was still there, so she went outside to further investigate.

* * *

Dean woke up to a loud tapping on his window. He shot up quickly, startled. He heard a boisterous laugh. He quickly rubbed his eyes. When his tired vision finally focused, he saw Rhiannon grinning at him from beside his car. He quickly looked around him, realizing his brother was nowhere to be found. Dean cursed in his head. Sam had probably left early and gone to the motel. That bitch. He looked back at Rhiannon and rolled down the window. Rhiannon bent over to get a better view of him, leaning her forearm on the top of the car. She couldn't stop smiling.

Dean waved, grinning cheekily. "Mornin' Fleetwood!"

Rhiannon smirked. "What, is the 'Gov too cheap to set their Feds up in a decent B&B these days?" She joked. "You know," she stepped backwards and looked towards town. "There's a nice motel on Main Street."

"Yeah, I heard," he replied gruffly. "That's probably where my partner is right now." Sam was going to pay. He reached for his phone to see if he had any missed calls from his brother. None.

"Partner slash brother, you mean?" Rhiannon asked curiously.

Dean's eyes flickered back to her and he closed his phone abruptly, shoving it back into his jean pocket. "Yeah," he smiled, flashing straight rows of perfect white teeth.

"You headin' back there anytime soon?" She asked.

He nodded, "I was just about to leave right before you got here."

"Wow, that must be some talent ya got there," she said thoughtfully.

"What?" He asked.

"Driving with your eyes closed," she smirked, crossing her arms. "Unconscious. I mean, I can barely get my car to _start_ when I'm wide awake."

Dean smiled and very discreetly looked her up and down. Rhiannon pretended not to notice. She put her hands on her hips and waited for him to say something.

"You want a ride?" He motioned to the passenger seat.

She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. Dean watched. "I guess so," she grinned, "You know, since you were just about to leave and everything."

He chuckled and looked down at the seat. He popped the lock and nodded towards the seat. Rhiannon ran around the car. Dean reached over and opened the door for her.

"Thanks," she said. She climbed into the car and immediately fell in love with it. She closed the door and wiggled around, getting comfortably. "This car's beautiful by the way," she told him. Dean grinned as he started the car. The engine started to roar as the car sprang to life. "But then again, any car that actually works is amazing compared to mine," she laughed. Dean glanced at her before he pulled away.

"She's my baby," he pat the car's dashboard. "I actually just fixed her up. She was a wreck."

Her jaw dropped. "All by yourself?"

"I had some time on my hands," he shrugged, recalling the few weeks that he and Sam had stayed at Bobby's. He'd worked on the impala the whole time; then continued to bash it up again out of frustration. He felt it was his responsibility, the car. His father had entrusted him with it and he would do anything to have a piece of his father with him still intact, still with him, still alive.

Rhiannon noticed the pain in his eyes, how focused he was on the road, how unmoving his stare. She looked at his emerald eyes as long as she could without being considered a creep. They were in her dream, she was sure of it now. They had stared straight at her, but they had looked a lot more menacing.

When they reached town, it was just starting to get busy. Well, as busy as a town like hers could have been. The early birds were out at the diner. Moms were rushing kids off to soccer practice. The bar wasn't open yet, but the mechanic was. Dean found a place to park right outside of the diner.

Rhiannon stepped out of the car and gently shut the door. Dean got out seconds after her. They stood on opposite sides of the car. "Thanks for the ride, Agent," she smiled and gave him a small salute. Dean nodded towards her in acknowledgement, smiling. "I gotta go check on my car."

Before she could get any further, Dean said, "Do you think I could actually ask you some more questions before you go do your thing, Miss Alexander? It'll only take an hour or so."

She smiled slowly. "Is the diner good for questioning, sir?" She pointed towards the diner sign. Dean started walking around the car towards her. He grinned and walked passed her. He opened the door and stepped aside. "Why thank you," she said in a false southern accent. She fanned herself and slipped past Dean. He closed the door behind them.

They found a private booth in the far right corner of the room. Dean sat against the wall. Rhiannon sat across from him.

"What time is it anyway?" She asked, checking her phone.

"It's about eight." He told her.

"Ugh," she groaned, and collapsed on the table. She looked up at him.

"What?" Dean couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face.

"That means they're only serving breakfast food. I wanted a hamburger." She sighed.

Dean grinned. A hamburger sounded good. He contemplated getting up and finding a McDonalds somewhere, but he remembered he wasn't on a date, he was an FBI agent who happened to be talking to a beautiful girl in questioning. Not that he would bring a girl to McDonalds on a date. Not that he'd bring a girl on a date…at all.

Dean was never one to be sneaky with his ways.

While he and Rhiannon started to eat, he couldn't help but look up from his food and gaze at her. She was hot; there was no doubt about that. But Dean usually hit on girls who were either as drunk or as desperate as he was, and Rhiannon was neither. He caught his eyes traveling down her v neck, but he was interrupted by a throat clearing. He snapped out of it immediately.

"So you think you're gonna get laid, is that what's going on?" She asked bluntly, taking another sip of her orange juice. Dean leaned back in his seat and eyed her humorously.

"If I said 'no' would you believe me?" His tongue ran smoothly over his teeth, the edges of his mouth twisting up into a devilish smile, revealing his dimples.

"Not at all," she laughed, but then her tone got serious. "Let's get one thing straight," she leaned her elbows on the table and folded her hands. "You're here to do your job. I'm here to answer any questions concerning my mother that you may have. I'm a girl with morals. I don't know you. And after this we won't ever see one another again, got it?"

Dean was impressed. "That must be taking you a lot of restraint," he said cockily.

"Oh, believe me honey," she picked up her glass, "not as much as you would think." She winked and brought the glass to her mouth and took another long swig of OJ, but never once took her eyes off of Dean.

"Okay," he placed his fork down and brought his hands up to the table like hers had just been. "I'm an FBI agent. I'm investigating your mother's suicide; I assure you that's all I'm here for." He grinned, but couldn't help himself. "Maybe."

Rhiannon shook her head and smiled. "Ask away, maestro," she motioned to Dean.

Without hesitation, Dean started firing questions. "Where were you the day of your mother's death?"

She flinched at the word 'death' but she fired right back. She wasn't about to be accused of killing her own Mother. "I was at Berklee. It's currently my fifth year, duel major program," she cleared up, "I was getting ready for one of my final exams when my Dad called me."

"And then what did you do?" He asked.

"Planes, trains, and automobiles," she sighed.

"Good movie," Dean interjjected.

"Right?" She said enthusiastically. "It's one of my favorites!" Dean sucked in his lips. _Job_. He remembered. 'Anyway, now I'm back _here_."

Dean chuckled. "You say that like you hate it here."

"Well I'd be lying if I said that it was stimulating." Dean cocked his head in curiosity, silently urging her to continue. She sighed. "There's a difference between growing up in this town, and coming back for the sake of your family."

"You planning on heading back anytime soon?"

"To Berklee?" She shook her head. "I mean, I guess… Maybe," Rhiannon was struggling with her words. "I mean don't get me wrong. I really want to, but my Dad needs me. Y'know, take care of the bar, help run the shop."

"What about siblings?" He asked. "You have any?"

"A brother, Jason." She picked her cup up nervously and started swirling the liquid around. "He's not around much."

Dean lifted his eyebrow. "What's he do?"

Rhiannon was all ready to answer the next question, but this one stumped her. She slunk back in her seat and thought for a moment. "You know…. I don't really know. He says he works for a big cooperation, eh," she waved the absurdity away, "that's a bunch of bull. My brother was always too beatnik for suits and ties." Dean chuckled.

"Did he come to the funeral?"

"He did. Left right after."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Said he had to get back to his 'job'." She made quotations with her fingers.

"Don't get me wrong with this next one. I know I got you on the hot seat, but, I'm just curious…"

"Shoot."

"Shouldn't you be more torn up about your Mom's death?"

"Excuse me?"

Dean regretted it the second it came out of his mouth.

"You know, fetal position, eatin' buckets of ice-cream…?"

Rhiannon's eyes narrowed. She sat up straight, rigid. "Excuse me, Agent," her tone heavy with attitude, "Don't for one second think you know what I should and shouldn't be," she spat. "You don't know how I deal with things. You don't know what I see. You don't…" she took a deep breath. Dean wondered what she meant by 'see'. "Look," she laughed nervously, "I can't change anything that's happened. I can't bring her back to life. I can't ask her what happened, or made her do it. All I want to know is _why_."

He knew the feeling. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I asked." He flagged the waiter down. "Thank you." Rhiannon fished into her wallet and pulled out a five. "No, no. I got it."

"No, really, that's okay-"

"I insist," Dean smiled, placing a ten down on the table. "Just think of it as the Government's regards."

"Thanks," Rhiannon told him. They each stood up and started walking for the door. "Do you need me for anything else?" She asked. Dean pushed the door open from over her head. They walked out.

He smirked. So many scenarios were running through his head, but he felt he overstepped his bounds by saying what he had said.

"I think we're good, here."

They spilled onto the side walk. "Agent," Rhiannon stuck her hand out towards him. She smiled and took him in one last time. The sun was hitting his hair with it's golden rays; it lit up his eyes. They shook. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

She started talking towards the mechanic. Dean shrugged, looking at her backside. Just then, Sam came up to him and hit his arm. "Hey."

"Hey," Dean turned his head towards his brother and hit Sam as soon as he registered it was him.

"HEY!"

"Why didn't you wake me up this morning?" Dean whispered harshly. He turned around and started walking. Sam jogged to keep up with him and smiled.

"What's better than having you suffer embarrassment in front of a pretty girl. I bet you were a surprise-"

"Shut up." Dean grunted.

"Dude, can you stop walking," Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and made him stop. Dean rolled his eyes.

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"I went back to the hospital after getting a _call_ saying that one of their patients started remembering things from her black out."

Dean looked around. "And?"

"She wants to speak to Rhiannon."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I appreciate it. It's almost where I want it to be, where things start moving along, but it's taking a while to set up. I love you all!**


	7. I Don't Want To Know

**Hola Readers! So I really like this chapter. Everything has been leading up to these next few. I'm really excited. If you get the chance, please tell me what you think! **

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :)**

* * *

_"I don't know but I've been told_  
_If you don't believe the devil owns your soul_  
_Well If this is the truth then to hell I go_  
_Cause I don't need to know"_

"Hey, Todd!" Rhiannon called happily as she walked into the garage. Todd was under her car. He slid out and waved.

"Hey, can you hand me that?" He pointed to the wrench that lye on a rag on the cement floor. His hands were covered in grease and his overalls were dirty.

She laughed. "Sure." She gave it to him and he slid back under. "I really appreciate you doing this." Rhiannon leaned against her car.

"No problem, Rhiannon. You know I'd do anything for you." Todd told her, voice muffled by the metal the separated them.

She had grown up with Todd. He was one of her best and only friends in this town. He wanted to be a baseball player, but he settled for staying and not leaving. He was a good looking guy; about five foot eight, with a mop of gold hair and dark brown eyes. She had never grown to like him as more than a friend though; much to her Mom's protesting that the two of them would get together in the end. Todd just wasn't Rhiannon's type. Her mind went back to Dean.

She smiled, chipping away at her finger nails. She looked around, and then down to Todd's feet. "I think those FBI guys are leavin' town soon."

"Oh really?" Rhiannon heard a loud clank and then Todd rolled out from under the car again, sighing in relief. He grabbed the towel that the wrench had been on and rubbed his hands clean. "They interrogate you anymore?"

"One of them did," she replied. She couldn't stop smiling. Todd grinned and slid across the hood of the car.

"And by interrogate you know I mean 'hit on', right?" He wiggled his eyebrows, alluding to something naughty. Rhiannon threw her head back and laughed. Todd smiled and tossed the rag onto the floor again. She hopped onto the hood of her car. Todd did the same, the metal giving in to his weight.

Rhiannon bit her bottom lip and continued inspecting her nails. Todd poked her in the ribs to get her attention. She yelped and turned towards him. "Todd! Don't you have something else to do?"

"I live to bug you what are you talking about?" He asked, acting repulsed by her question. Rhiannon smiled slowly.

"Get _outta_ here, Todd!" She giggled, shoving her friend. Then she settled back into silence. She started thinking about her nightmare, biting her nails nervously. It was really starting to bug the crap out of her. Maybe she had met Dean before, somewhere down the line, but she just didn't realize it. It was just really bad déjà-vu. All the time. And then there were the nightmares about the people in the hospital…

"You okay, Rhi?" Todd's voice struck her out of her thoughts.

"Hmmm- What?"

"You okay? You're finger are well on their way to becoming bloody stumps." He chuckled nervously, looking from her fingers to her worried eyes.

"It's nothing," she waved him away and hopped off of her car. "Is my Dad around?" She changed the subject before delving into something she had no desire to talk about. Todd looked at her worriedly and slid off of the car, the metal snapping back into place. He pointed in no direction in particular without saying a word. He bent over and picked up his rag, wiping at his hands again. Rhiannon didn't have to ask where her Dad was though. She already knew.

She took a single step when she heard her name being called from the front of the shop. She spun around and was met with the FBI agent again, this time his brother was with him. Rhiannon let out a quiet huff and trudged back towards them.

"Agents," she nodded towards them. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and swayed on the balls of her feet. She faced Dean. "Thought we were done?"

"Heh." He shrugged and licked his lip nervously.

Sam cut right to the chase. "Do you know about the people who've been checked into the hospital this past week?" Rhiannon's heartbeat quickened. They must have noticed the way her face fell because each of them took a step closer. Sam's eyes narrowed.

Dean looked back and forth between his brother and Rhiannon. Rhiannon stood still, arms crossed, uncomfortable. "W-What do you mean?"

"Are you aware of the man and woman who were put in the hospital due to severe amnesia last week?" Sam clarified.

"Yeah," she cleared her throat. "Dad told me Mrs. Benson fell down her stairs. Mr. Calton drank too much." But the tone in her voice made even herself skeptical of her answer.

"Unlikely," he said. "Did you know they all have a connection to you?"

"What?" She let out a jagged breath. "Well, yeah. Mrs. Benson was my piano teacher, and Mr. Calton is a close family friend… but what does that have to do with anything?"

The brothers exchanged looks. Rhiannon swallowed the lump in her throat.

Sam looked over to the nervous young woman. "We'd like you to come with us."

She took a step back and shook her head. "I'd rather not."

"Rhiannon?" Dean asked apprehensively. She looked at him. "Do you know something we don't know?" Rhiannon gazed at them in horror.

"I...I don't..I really just-" she sputtered.

"Excuse me," Todd cleared his throat. Rhiannon jumped, startled. "Can I help you?" She looked up at her friend, thankful to have somebody to drag her away with some fake excuse.

Dean looked him up and down. "Nothing," he inspected Todd's name tag. "Todd," he made a face and then looked back up at him. "Just talking to Rhiannon here about some personal business."

"Rhiannon, you okay?" Todd touched her shoulder softly. She pushed her hair behind her ear and nodded.

"Yeah… They just need to know a little bit more that's all." Todd's eyes narrowed at Sam and Dean, and with a toss of his rag over his shoulder, he turned around and walked into his office.

"So, Rhiannon," Sam started. "If you wouldn't mind coming with us?" He ushered her towards the door.

Her heartbeat hadn't slowed down yet. "This isn't going to take long, is it?" She asked, pushing past them. "My Dad is expecting me at the bar for work."

"Don't worry, you'll show," Dean told her. As she walked passed them, a feeling of impending doom hung over her every move like a storm cloud.

_

* * *

_

Rhiannon walked into the hospital and it immediately gave her chills. She had a bad feeling about this. Before she had the chance to turn around and actually be on time for work, she was greeted by one of the nurses.

"Rhiannon!" The middle aged woman smiled cheerfully. She had bright orange hair, most likely dyed because of disappointing greys. She had wrinkles by her eyes and ducks on her scrubs. "Agents! Nice to see you again." Sam and Dean nodded.

"Hi, Ms. Lancaster," Rhiannon waved half heartedly. It got tiring, knowing everyone in the town. There was never a good time to escape.

"How are you doin'?" Ms. Lancaster asked, her attention back on the young woman. "Mrs. Benson's been asking for you."

She started to tremble. "H-has she?" Sam and Dean noted her skittish. "Yes, she's right this way."

"Any sign of memory from Mr. Calton?" Dean asked gruffly as they all walked down the long, white hallway.

Ms. Lancaster shook her head. "Sadly, no. His mind is completely gone."

"Well, that's always good," Dean said softly so only Sam could hear. Sam huffed.

"Alright, this is her room," she stood next to the door. "Not too many questions now, okay?" She grinned from ear to ear. "See you around Rhiannon. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

Rhiannon chuckled and waved after her. She was anything but better. If anything, she was getting more and more freaked out by the day. She faced the closed door again and gripped the handle.

"Anytime you're ready," Dean said in her ear. She took that as she was taking too long. She swallowed and pushed it open.

Mrs. Benson sat propped up on her pillows. She looked uncomfortable and scared. A twinge of guilt for something Rhiannon didn't even know struck through her. She walked in with caution.

"Hey, Mrs. Benson," she said. The old woman's head shot up at the sound of her voice. The look in her eyes unnerved Rhiannon. Sam and Dean followed her and shut the door behind them. "I understand you've been asking for me. How are you feeling?"

"Terrible," the old woman croaked. "They say I fell down the stairs."

Rhiannon nodded. "I heard that, too."

She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "Well, they're wrong," Mrs. Benson lowered her gaze. Rhiannon looked at her curiously, but kept up her cheerful facade.

"Oh, well, there's always a first," Rhiannon chatted nonchalantly. Sam and Dean kept in the corner of the room.

"Why are you still here?" The old woman barked, noticing the boys. Rhiannon looked over her shoulder at the agents. "I told you to leave," her lips trembled.

"They just brought me here to talk to you, Mrs. Benson," Rhiannon looked at her old piano teacher sorrowfully. She tilted her head to the side and placed her hand on the woman's shoulder. Mrs. Benson screamed.

"I need to get out!" Her outburst caused Sam and Dean to push themselves from the wall and step closer. She wriggled in the hospital bed. Rhiannon took a step back. Mrs. Benson pointed one of her fingers at her and narrowed her eyes. "_You_ need to get **out**!"

"Wh..What?" Rhiannon laughed nervously and went to fluff the elder's pillow. "Come on Mrs. Benson don't be silly-"

Mrs. Benson pushed her away. Dean's hand grazed over the gun in his pocket. Rhiannon was surprised by the blunt force such an old woman could possess. Quickly, Mrs. Benson stepped out of bed and walked towards Rhiannon. "They _want_ you, Rhiannon. They're looking for you." Rhiannon's pulse quickened. She was paralyzed. Mrs. Benson stepped closer; there was no space between them. "_Hunting_," she whispered harshly. She drew her head back and looked at Rhiannon with a wild look in her eyes. "They took your Mother, the one who got inside of me. They're going to get you if it's the last thing they do. It's their mission."

Dean looked from the old woman to Rhiannon. "_Mission_?" Rhiannon asked. "What _mission_?"

"It told me things. Horrible things. About you," she shoved a shaking finger into Rhiannon's chest. "And what you'll become. You need to leave. You're a danger to this town."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

The old woman cackled and climbed back into bed. "I think that in time you'll find you do. You're nightmares..will become…_reality_." Mrs. Benson's heart monitor started going crazy before she flat lined. Rhiannon gazed at her in agony. She ran her hand through her hair and let out a jagged breath. Sam ran out of the room. A few moments later, nurses and doctors started filing in. Dean grabbed Rhiannon's elbow and dragged her out of the room.

"Let. Me. _GO_!" She tried to get out of his grasp, but he was too strong.

"You wanna tell me what the _hell_ that was?" He asked angrily. He shoved her lightly. She stumbled backward, tears falling from her eyes. She looked around, crazed.

"This is some sick joke, right?" She exclaimed. Dean only continued to stare at her."Right?"

Sam ran out of the room and stood next to his brother. "Why don't you tell us?" Dean said, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Why was she saying those things?" Rhiannon asked again, mostly to herself than to them. She shook her head in disbelief. "I need to leave," she brushed passed them.

Dean grabbed her elbow again. "That's not a very good idea-"

She looked up at him in disgust and tore her arm away. "Leave me alone." She ran down the hallway, ignoring the looks she was getting from everyone around her. She couldn't breathe. She needed fresh air. She needed to get out. Once she escaped the doors of the hospital, she bent over, hands on her knees, and drew in a deep breath. Rhiannon hugged her ribs; they felt like they were constricting her. She looked around her. Everywhere she turned she saw faces staring at her like she was insane. Was she insane?

"I'm going insane," she cried. She took off running again.

* * *

By the time Sam and Dean got outside, Rhiannon had disapeared.

"Great!" Sam exclaimed. Dean spun around in circles, looking around town. "We can't let her get away, Dean," Sam started, "The demons are after her. You heard the old woman. _The one who got inside her_."

"Those demons are kinky sons of bitches, what can I say?" He muttered as he looked around frantically.

"Very funny." Sam stomped. "Dean, they're looking for Rhiannon."

"I got that!" Dean snapped.

"Do you have any idea where she might be?" Sam asked urgently.

Dean stopped looking around and looked at his brother. "I think I do." He started running. "Follow me."

* * *

_Rhiannon was slowly drifting off to sleep in her dorm room. But the stinging sensation in the middle of her brain got to her before she could pass out. She seethed and grabbed her head. She saw Mrs. Benson sitting on her piano bench. The same piano bench she had sat on to take her lessons for years. The plump woman pressed each key enthusiastically. The house lights began flickering. Then out of nowhere, black smoke embodied the frail old woman. Mrs. Benson threw her head back, making gurgling noises as she was fed the smoke._

_A few quiet moments passed. Flashes of bright light. Mrs. Benson opened her eyes. They were all black. She smiled and looked at her hands. "Perfect," she hissed. She walked out of the front door._

_More flashes of bright lights. She was looking somewhere else now. Mr. Calton was walking home from the bar. It was dark. The streetlamps flickered, same as Mrs. Benson's had, until they went black. And then he, too, was eating smoke. He fell to the ground. Nobody was around to hear him yell. When he looked back up, his eyes were black, and Mrs. Benson was standing in front of him._

_"Took you long enough," she barked._

_Mr. Calton snickered. "Took me a while to find a nice **suit**-er," he laughed._

_"You disgust me." Mrs. Benson walked passed him. Mr. Calton got up and followed her._

_"I feel like a hillbilly," he picked at the flannel cloth and fisherman's vest he wore._

_"It's the latest trend this season." The old woman replied. She seemed unattached, and suddenly stopped to sniff the air._

_Mr. Calton stopped a few inches short from bumping into her. "What are we doing here?"_

_"I told you," she gritted her teeth. "She's going to be here in a few days. You're unbelievable senile."_

_"Look who's talking," he retorted. "Last time I checked, I'm not the one wearing the wrinkles." She turned around and glared at him._

_"I. **will**. snap. your. neck." She pronounced each word articulately. _

_He scoffed. "You really need to lay off the bitch and pull that stick out of your ass."_

_She spun around quickly, ignoring his comment. "Everything is almost ready. We still need to get her Mother."_

_"And after that?"_

_"You know the plan."_

_ Rhiannon rocked herself back and forth on her bed. The pain was unbearable. It went straight through her teeth. Tears were streaming down her face. What was happening to her? _

* * *

The sun was high in the sky. Heat beat down on Rhiannon's neck as she ran towards her father's bar. As she burst through the doors she noticed the _closed_ sign still hung up even though they were supposed to be open.

"Dad?" She called, out of breath and terrified. "Dad!"

The lock on the door clicked, startling her. "I'm here." A voice came from behind her. She spun around quickly, barley making out the silhouette of her father before another teeth grinding headache pierced through her. This time, she couldn't help collapsing on the floor.

_The Impala. Sam with a gun. Dean kicking down a door. Leather Jacket. Green eyes. Guns firing. Screams. Black smoke._

_The man with the yellow eyes. "It's almost time..." The words echoed like they had before. "You're almost ready...yes." _

The sound of menacing laughter circled her. She forced her eyes open and gazed up at her father. He looked down at her. He blinked slowly, reveling black eyes, just like the ones she had seen in her nightmares.

"You're not my father," Rhiannon realized angrily. She shook as she stood up. "It's been you since this morning." Her father smiled and pointed to his nose.

"You always were a smart girl, Rhiannon." He strolled over to her. "Really did burn my finger though."

"Let him go." Her lips trembled as she spoke through gritted teeth.

He shook his head, shrugging. "I'm having too much fun." He grinned evilly before kicking her across the room. She saw the bar stools and tables whiz past her. With a loud thump, Rhiannon's back hit the side of the stage. She collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain.

"Why are you doing this?" She gasped for air and tried to push herself up, but her Dad put her foot on her back, keeping her down.

"Rhiannon!" Dean's gruff voice called from the other side of the door.

She attempted to look up but he only held her down more. He tilted his head to the side. "You're more important than you realize, Rhiannon. You have a big part. He _likes_ you," he hissed. "He's going to try anything to get you."

"Who?" She seethed, a sharp pain rocketing up her spine.

He laughed. "You're telling me you haven't seen him?" He clucked his tongue and pressed hard on her back for a second, then released her. "You won't last long. Just like your Mommy," he mocked. "You'll be dead or evil by the time we get through with you."

Rhiannon stood up quickly. "Kill me then," she spread her arms open wide. "If I'm going to die in the end then kill me right now."

"Oooo, sorry, that's not in my contract," he walked closer to her. She was breathing heavily, gazing into his cold, black eyes. Her fists curled into balls. He stroked her cheek with his finger. "Oh yes, he's going to _love_ you."

Without hesitation, Rhiannon brought up her fist and smacked him in the jaw. She ran in the opposite direction towards the door, but something grabbed her and tossed her against the wall. She was pinned, feet dangling over the floor. He started charging her, rubbing where she had just hit. When he was inches away, the door burst open to reveal Sam and Dean. Rhiannon was relieved to see them. "Help!" She called. Her Dad turned around and his face was met with Dean's fist. Sam started muttering something in Latin, and while Dean held her father down, the black smoke started pouring out of his mouth. Rhiannon fell to the ground.

"Go!" Dean ordered her, struggling to keep the demon still. Her eyes were wide with fear. Was she about to lose her father, too? "NOW!" He yelled. His green eyes pierced her, just like she had seen. They penetrated her; stern and hard to read, unmoving. Sam continued to utter his latin incantation as Rhiannon slipped through the door and out into the afternoon.

* * *

They had managed to temporarily paralyze the demon with holy water so they could tie him to a chair. While Dean kept him down and poured more on it if it tried escaping, Sam drew a devils trap. When all was secure, the brothers took a step back, ready to start their questioning.

"What do you want with Rhiannon?" Dean stooped over the demon, salt and holy water ready.

"Isn't it obvious?" It asked, gesturing to them. They stared at him blankly. It let out an exasperated sigh. "You humans pay no attention. Did you not _listen_ when the old hag was speaking about _nightmares_ and _visions_?"

Sam's face dropped. He and Dean looked at each other and then back at the demon.

"That's right," the demon grinned. "She's just like you, Sammy. Exactly like you, actually. If you were Superman she'd be Wonder woman. Same powers, same responsibility. Except, for all intensive _evil_ purposes, of course."

"Of course," Dean snarled.

"You're lying," Sam spat. He didn't know how to react.

Oh, don't look at me like that Samuel." The demon cooed. Sam shook his head, nostrils flaring. "You should be happy! You're not the only freak let out of the bag!" The demon cheered happily. Dean shook a few drops of holy water on the demon.

"And Claire?" He asked.

The demon rolled it's head and shoulders. "That was just a bit of fun," it shrugged.

Dean searched the Demon's eyes for answers. "You demons are sick bastards, you know that?"

"Oh, I do. We all do. And you know it, too. So, you should really just let me be on my way..." It moved slightly, causing Sam and Dean to jump after it. It laughed and then sighed. "I wouldn't waste too much time with me, boys, I'm not the only catch in town this evening."

* * *

**cliffhangerrr! :) thank you so much, whoever reads this, i really appreciate it! i hope to get a few more chapters out tomorrow. i hope you enjoyed this! **


	8. We've Got A Big Mess On Our Hands

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own Supernatural or the songs that I use. All rights to go their respective authors. The only thing I own are the characters that I create with my own mind :)**

* * *

"Don't give up, don't give in

_I'll be gone_  
_I don't look innocent enough_  
_We're too young to be cynics_  
_We won't wish any harm at all_  
_Don't give in, don't give up_  
_No one looks innocent_  
_With this big, big mess on our hands tonight"_

_- the Academy Is... _

_

* * *

_

Dean turned to Sam quickly, tossing him the holy water. He loaded his gun, chin tilted down, he looked up at his brother.

"Sam, exorcize this mother." He snarled. Dean's eyes met with the black ones of the demon as he cocked his gun. He turned around.

"You're too late!" It taunted. Dean paid no attention. He ran straight for the door and tore it open. He looked from side to side, looking for any sign of Rhiannon. The town seemed oddly serene, untouched by the battle that had just gone down inside of the bar.

He hoped that the demon was lying.

* * *

Sam faced the demon, snarling. "Sammy," the demon grinned.

"Say a word, and I'll torture you first," Sam threatened. Fear flashed through the demons eyes for a fraction of a second, but soon they were the same unsettling black. Sam started to speak Latin, and the black smoke erupted from Rhiannon's Father.

"Wait," the demon gurgled. "I can tell you things…" it gasped, "about Yellow Eyes… about the other children like you…"

Sam stopped speaking. "What are you saying?"

"She's the second one you've met, right? With _powers_," the demon chuckled. "Like that Matt kid you met a few months back?"

"Max," Sam corrected, glaring down at the demon. He had felt for Max. Their mother's had both burned up on the ceiling. They each had powers, which meant there was a pattern. If he had a connection with Max, he had a connection with Rhiannon, too. The only thing that stumped him so far was that her mother hadn't died in a house fire. She was a psychic kid, thought, just like the Yellow Eyed demon had said: _My plans for you, Sammy, you and all the children like you._

He had been going crazy trying to figure out what Yellow Eyes had meant by that. His Father didn't know, Bobby didn't know, Dean didn't care, and… Maybe if Rhiannon lived through the day she could help him.

Sam swallowed hard. "Shut up," he spat and carried on with the exorcism.

* * *

"Todd!" She called, pushing open the front door with much more force than anticipated. Her hands flew to her head as another sharp pain shot through her skull.

_**They want you, Rhiannon. They're looking for you… hunting. They took your Mother…They're going to get you if it's the last thing they do. It's their mission.**_

The door slammed against the wall, the bell ringing furiously. "Todd! Todd!" Her mouth was dry, her hands trembling, sweat dripped from her forehead. She ran past the front room towards the garage, looking around anxiously for her friend. There was no sign of him anywhere. Her eyes blurred, the words of Mrs. Benson still ringing through her ears like silence that's never really silent. It was like an annoying buzz.

_**It told me things..horrible things about you…and what you'll become. You need to leave. You're a danger to this town.**_

"Oh no…" She said to herself, running her hands through her hair. "TODD!" She screamed. "Todd!"

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" He strolled in from one of the back rooms with his hands up. He spun the wrench he was holding and placed it into his back pocket.

Rhiannon exhaled roughly, clutching her chest. "What the hell, Todd? Didn't you hear me calling your name?"

"I heard you," he said. "I was busy. My bad." Todd shrugged.

"You're _bad_?" She mocked him. Todd ignored her comment, walking straight passed her into her Dad's office. He sat down in the chair, propping his feet up on the cluttered work table. He knocked over a picture in the process. Rhiannon bent over and picked it up, it was a picture of her at her high school graduation. To her left was her Father, and her Mother was to her right. Their smiles could be identified with that of the Cheshire Cat.

Her fingers ran smoothly over the glass that held in the picture. Tears stung her eyes. She thought about all of her nightmares, the catalyst for her sleep and sanity deprivation. She had seen her mother's death, Mrs. Benson and Mr. Calton, the FBI brothers… She had pushed them to the back of her mind, ignoring the eerie feelings that, as of lately, always seemed to be tugging at her heart and eating away at the back of her mind.

**_You're nightmares will become reality._**

Rhiannon shuddered slightly. She thought it wasn't noticeable, but Todd looked at her curiously.

"What's your issue?" He sniggered. He uncrossed his legs and placed them on the floor with a thump. Todd pushed himself up out of the chair and walked towards her. "Thinkin' about dear old Mom and Pop?" He grinned, looking at the picture. He clucked his tongue and reached one of his grease stained hands up towards her face. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Her breathing quickened. Something wasn't right. She had that feeling again. He ran his hand through her hair and ran down her back. Instinctively, Rhiannon took a step back. She threw a look at Todd, who only opened his arms.

"Come on, Rhi, it's me!"

Rhiannon clenched her jaw. "No it's not," she told him through gritted teeth.

Todd grinned widely and dropped his arms. His eyes turned black, just like her Father's had. "You caught me. You're getting' good at this!" He started to circle her. She followed him, turning as he did. Her eyes never left his soulless pair.

"What do you want from me?" She barked.

"Oh, it's not what _I_ want from you," he clarified. "No, no," he shook his head. "It's what _he_ wants from you."

"Who's _he_?" She asked. "The man in my nightmares?" He smirked at her. "They're just nightmares," she scoffed.

"_He_ is not a nightmare, he is in fact, very much real, and you'll meet him soon enough, once it's time for you to play your part." Todd stopped, his arms crossed behind his back. He looked like a soldier. They watched each other intently. Rhiannon was the first one to break; the black eyes in their staring contest were starting to unnerve her.

"What are you talking about? You and whatever the hell took over my Father are both talking about how much he's going to 'love me'. How I have a 'big part'. A big part in _what_?"

"So many questions," he tsked and started circling her again. "I can't give away the big surprise," he replied simply. "It's a pity you're being so resistant, I really do consider us like family."

"I don't even know what _you_ are," she spat.

Todd sighed. "Must we go through this?" He looked at Rhiannon, who stared at him with confusion and curiosity. He hung his head. "Fine," he started, "I'm a demon. Harsh title, I know, my real name is Zepar, and that back there was Ronwe," he bowed, giving her a sarcastic look. She stared at him in disbelief. Once he straightened up again he spoke, "And those fools after you? The FBI Agents? They're not _really_ FBI. They're Winchesters. You mustn't trust them. They'll pull you away from us."

"You're lying," she resisted.

He gave her a look. "Are you honestly still lying to yourself about all of this? You knew this was going to happen. You've been having visions. Nightmares, what have you," he waved her away, "You've known about us for a long time. Don't deny it-"

Before she could answer, the door was kicked down. The demon's eyes went black and he glared towards the source. Dean barreled inside, gun in hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked Rhiannon, eyes flickering back and forth between her and the demon. She nodded. He pushed her back out into the garage. She stumbled, and after getting her bearings she gazed at Dean face to face with the demon.

"GO!" Dean yelled to her.

"Go where?" She exclaimed, motioning around her body. Rhiannon glanced around, and then her eyes rested on her car. She saw her keys on the table across the room. In one swift motion, she slid across the hood, grabbed them, hopped into the front seat, and started the engine.

Dean looked over his shoulder at her.

"I've been waiting for you, Dean," the demon smiled. Dean's head snapped back to the demon.

Rhiannon pressed the gas pedal furiously and sped out of the garage. Heads turned as she flew down the main road. Tears fell from her eyes without hesitation. She didn't look in the rearview mirror. She didn't look anywhere but in front of her.

* * *

"I will kill you," Dean seethed.

The demon Zepar lurched it's hosts head back and spilled from his mouth. Dean watched in disgust. As the black smoke disappeared, the boy's body fell to the floor. Dean knelt down and checked his pulse. He was alive. Swiftly, he pulled out his phone and called 911 and informed them that Todd had passed out. But Dean didn't have time to stay. He had to get back to Sam. They had to go after Rhiannon.

He ran back down the street to the bar, where he found Sam, standing in front of another lifeless body. "He alive?" Dean asked.

"Barely," he said softly. "Dean, what the hell is going on? Rhiannon's psychic?"

"You tell me!" Dean shot back.

Sam looked over his brother. "Where is she?" Dean looked around.

He sighed. "I told her to take off. She took her car."

Sam gave him a look. He took a ready stance and started yelling. "Dean, if she's alone we have to find her! They want her, so they're probably right on her tail!"

"We better get moving then," Dean replied, stuffing his gun into his back pocket. Sam called the hospital for Mr. Alexander. He felt horrible. What would the townspeople think? What rumors would they conjure up? Rhiannon lashed out, bashed them over the head a few times, and then split?

"I think she should stay with us, Dean," Sam told him.

Dean looked at him, "What?" He asked, annoyed.

"If she's like me, she could help me. We can help each other. I just don't think she should be left alone."

"Yeah, well, we'll worry about that if she's still alive by the time we get to her."

Sam leaned back in his seat and huffed. Dean looked at his brother with sad eyes.

* * *

Rhiannon was driving 100 miles per hour down the dirt road that led out of town. She didn't want to think about what was following her. She didn't want to think about anything at all. What were the demons talking about? She had a part to play, the man with the yellow eyes had a plan... It was too much bull shit for her. She couldn't take it.

Just when she thought life couldn't get any worse, her car's engine sputtered. She started to swerve. Rhiannon couldn't help but scream in frustration. She hit the breaks, which was probably the worst thing to do in her situation. The car spun around a few times, kicking up dirt and gravel as it went, until it finally came to a halt on the side of the road. Smoke rose from the engine. She thought about getting out, but only leaned her head on the steering wheel and let out a loud sob.

What was she supposed to do? She couldn't go back. She didn't know what had happened to her father or Todd. Her Mother's car was finally broken. It fit her situation.

Minutes seemed to drag on as the sun faded into the earth. The sky was overtaken now by dark reds and sapphires. She heard an engine roar. Rhiannon lifted her head slowly and looked in the rearview mirror. It was the Impala. It came to a short stop as the two men climbed out.

Dean ran over to her. "Rhiannon? Rhiannon are you okay? Get out of the car. We need to go."

"Why?" She yelled, staring up at him. "I have no reason to go with you."

Sam stood next to his brother. "Sure you do, we can keep you safe."

"That's not what the demon said." She spoke the word like it was a joke. Her fear turned directly into anger.

Sam and Dean shared a look. "Rhiannon, what did the demon say to you?"

She scoffed. "That you're not FBI. And that I shouldn't trust you."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "You know what demons are right?" He looked down at her. "You've learned about them, right? You know they're bad?"

Rhiannon swallowed the bile that crept up her throat and focused her eyes on her burning engine. "Come on, we need to get you safe."

She clutched the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. Her dark hair blew in the small wind that had risen. "Give me one good reason why I should trust you?" She spat, glaring at the two of them.

"Uhh, cause we saved your ass, like, five times?" Dean retorted in an annoyed manner. "Listen, sweetheart, my patience is wearing thin. So you either come with us, or-"

"Sweetheart?" She stood up on her seat, towering over Sam and Dean. They took a step back. She hopped out of her car. "Don't you dare talk to me like that." She pushed passed them. "I've dealt with enough assholes today." She didn't turn around until she reached the Impala. "I'll come with you," she faced them, "but when we get to your safe haven, I get answers, got it?"

Sam and Dean didn't argue. They wouldn't press their luck. If they could save this girl, they'd be satisfied, even if she was a pain along the way.

Dean sat behind the wheel and Sam sat in the passenger seat. Rhiannon sat, silent in the backseat. She looked out of the back window, eyeing her Mother's car as they got farther and farther away. Soon, it was only a bit of smoke in the distance. It was then that it all sunk in. She was homeless. As far as she knew, her whole family was dead. She was probably being framed for the murders right now. She was too freaky for her own liking. Demons were after her, telling her she was apart of some great plan. She was riding around in the Impala she'd dreamt about for months with two men who she knew deep down she could trust. All of this scared her, but what frightened her the most was what the first demon had told her,

**You'll be dead or evil by the time we get through with you.**


	9. All Aboard the Crazy Train!

Hello Readers! I've neglected you guys for so long, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. It's been a hectic few months. I can't believe I haven't posted since January. I've just had so much going on, but I've been writing bits and bobs all over the place. I'm on spring break now (hopefully a lot of you guys are, too!). This is the next chapter! I hope to have a few more out this week and keep a steady pace of updating from now on. I plan on making this a season 2- 5 story so I better get my act together! Thank you so much for waiting as patiently as you have, your comments are appreciated!

* * *

_Mental wounds not healing, life's a bitter shame._

_I'm going off the rails on a crazy train._

_I'm going off the rails on a crazy train.- Ozzy Osbourne_

"So, do we have a plan?" Sam asked his brother urgently. The Impala kicked up dirt behind it. Dean pressed the gas pedal as hard as he could, throwing hasty glances behind him every so often to check if anything was on their tail.

"I'm thinking," Dean replied. Rhiannon turned around in her seat and wiped at her eyes. Dean glanced at her in the rearview mirror, but put his eyes back on the road quickly. Sam huffed.

"We can't afford hesitation right now, Dean!" He exclaimed.  
"I'm thinking! God damn," Dean yelled right back. Rhiannon rolled her eyes. She grabbed the front seat and pulled herself up to the edge of her own.

"So, I'm sorry, I'm just trying to piece all of this madness together," she rubbed her temples. "Those were…_demons_?"

Sam nodded. "Yes."

"And one of them killed my mother," she stated. Sam and Dean looked back at her in unison.

"Well, that was our theory, but how did you guess that?" Dean asked.

She shifted uncomfortably. "I've had nightmares about it..."

"Nightmares," Sam turned around to face her. "What kind of nightmares?" Rhiannon bit her bottom lip nervously and shook her head. She looked out of the window and tried her best to hold in her tears. "Rhiannon, you need to tell us what you've seen."

"Hey," Dean looked over at his brother, "back off, Sam, give the girl a break."

"No, Dean!" Sam yelled. "Those demons were talking about the yellow eyed demon," he pointed back at the town. "They know something we don't, and it has to do with Rhiannon. I mean, you heard it Dean, the demon said she was just like me."

"You said demons lie." Her voice was almost inaudible. The boys looked back at her again.

"What did they say to you?" Dean asked.

She laughed sarcastically and crossed her arms over her ribcage. "Besides not to trust you two?" She shook her head and leaned back. "Well, the first one told me that I would either be evil or dead by the time they were through with me. Oh! And the second one told me he considers me family, whatever that means. He also said that _he_ would love me, I'm guessing he was talking about that yellow eyed demon you two have been discussing," she motioned between Sam and Dean.

"Did the second demon tell you anything else about the Yellow Eyed Demon?" Sam asked quickly, trying to get answers.

Rhiannon's eyebrows knit together. She remembered her nightmares of the man with the yellow eyes telling her it was almost time. "He…_it_ said that he would love me, and that I would play a big part in something."

Dean beat Sam to the punch line, "A big part in what?"

"I don't know!" She exclaimed. "I don't even know what the hell is going on!" Tears were ready to fall from her eyes, but Sam had more questions.

"Why don't you just tell us what you've had nightmares about for starters?" Sam asked. "I know that it's going to be difficult, but we need all of the answers we can get right now."

"Well, it started over a year ago with you two! That's why you both look so familiar." Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look. "A-a-and Mrs. Benson and Mr. Calton getting possessed, they were planning on… killing… my mother," she swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. "And then I started having nightmares about her death." She looked at Sam and Dean with desperation. "I didn't want to admit it, but everything that I have nightmares about…" she turned towards the window and stared out at the passing scenery, "everything just…"

"Comes true?" Sam finished her sentence for her with a slow nod.

Rhiannon looked back at him quickly. "Look, I'm not a freak, okay?"

Sam couldn't help but grin. "No, I know, I know. This is just… it's great!"

"This is funny to you?" Rhiannon barked. Dean couldn't help but hide his smile at the fact that Sam was getting yelled at by a girl.

"No, no, no!" He said quickly. "Rhiannon, I think you're psychic."

"Psychic?" She looked at him like he was crazy.

He nodded hastily. "Yes." He turned to his brother. "There's a motel right up here," he pointed. Then, he turned back to Rhiannon.

"Alright," she threw her hands up, "I've officially joined the crazy train. If there's a stop at SaneVille anytime soon, please let me off."

"Rhiannon, listen," Sam was facing her all the way now, his knees on the seat of the Impala. Dean looked at him and shook his head in shame. He pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot. "You're not a freak. This isn't a crazy train. I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean. We didn't lie to you about that."

"Well, we really _aren't_ FBI," Dean added. Rhiannon gave him a quick glare before focusing back on Sam. Dean shrugged and turned the car off. He ran into the motel to get them a room.

"I know you don't want to believe this, but," Sam looked at her sympathetically, "you're psychic, just like me. It all started around your twenty-second birthday, right? Really, _really_ bad migraines?" He asked her. Rhiannon eyed him suspiciously. "I have them, too."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, before Dean's voice cut through the silence. "Sam come on, we have to get her inside!"

"Come on." Sam got out of the car, opened the door for Rhiannon, and made sure she got inside of the motel room before either of them. He followed her. Dean went back to the Impala and opened the trunk.

Rhiannon ran her hands through her hair and sat down on one of the stiff beds. Sam sat across from her. Dean walked in with his duffel bag. He tossed it on the bed Sam was sitting on and started pulling out various forms of weaponry.

It caught Rhiannon's attention. Her head shot up quickly. "What's that?" She asked, horrified, pointing at the very dangerous gun he was holding.

Dean looked over at her, his jaw clenched tightly. "Precaution," he told her, cocking a gun and placing it on the bed beside the bag.

"Rhiannon…" Sam started. He sighed heavily. She bit at her nails nervously, peering up at him behind the shade of her dark brown hair. "This is all very hard to take in, I know that, but you're in danger right now. We're just trying to help." Dean peered over at her as he cleaned his gun. She caught him staring and made eye contact with him for a few seconds before shaking her head and looking away.

"I'm going back to town," he said. Sam looked at him over his shoulder. "You have a suitcase or anything, Fleetwood?"

"Am I staying with you guys or something?" She looked between them.

Sam sighed. "We think it's for the best right now," he answered. "I mean, maybe we can help each other."

Dean waited for an answer. He shoved his gun into his back pocket and stared at her. She was quiet for a minute. "If I stay here with you… will my Dad be safe?"

"That's what we're hoping," Dean told her. "But nothing is one hundred percent."

"And…" she faced Sam, "I might be able to find out why all of this weirdo stuff is happening inside of my head?"

"Maybe," he nodded. "I think it would be good to have someone around who knows what we're going through." Dean glared at his brother, offended. Sam gave Rhiannon a hopeful half smile.

She shook her head. "Fine," she told them. Dean opened the door. "But I still want answers."

"That's good enough for me!" Sam said excitedly.

"Oh, Agent!" Rhiannon called after Dean. He poked his head inside of the room.

"I told you, we're not agents," he motioned towards Sam and himself. "He's Sam, I'm Dean. Got it?"

She smiled playfully. "My suitcase is under my bed."

"Got it."

"Oh, and Agent!" The sound of Dean's groan made her and Sam smile.

"Dean," he pointed to himself.

"Can you bring my guitar, too?" She bat her eyelashes. He rolled his eyes.

"Sure, while I'm making what is sure to be a deadly escape from your room, I'll be sure to pick up your _guitar_," he mocked her.

"Thank you so much," she said sweetly, "One more thing!" She smiled when he gave her the deadliest look, "don't sit on that gun, you might pop a cap in your ass. None of us would want that." She couldn't help herself. Sam laughed. Dean muttered something under his breath as he took the gun out of his back pocket and slammed the door behind him.

As Sam's laughter subsided he said, "You seem to be warming up to us pretty fast."

"Yeah, well," she smiled and leaned back on her hands, "think of it as payback for how many times he tried to hit on me in the past two days. Plus, since I've been having visions of you guys I feel like I've known you for a while, in the complete non-creeper sense."

"I told him he wasn't going to get anywhere," Sam shook his head at his brother. The two of them were silent for a few moments.

"Rhiannon, when you say that you've seen us in your nightmares?"

"I've only seen glimpse. Mostly of Dean's…"

"Dean's what?"

"Jacket," she answered quickly and then cleared her throat. "His jacket, and the car, and your... faces."

"Huh," Sam said, stumped. "Weird. Maybe your subconscious was trying to tell you something."

"Yeah," she laughed, "Rhiannon, two men claiming to be FBI are going to come to your home and unleash a _crazy_ world of demons and talk of _strange_ psychic abilities," she mocked her situation in a whimsical tone. "If you don't mind me asking," She addressed Sam with curiosity, "what have _you_ had nightmares about?"

Sam stared at the maroon carpet. He kicked his feet lightly. "Uhm, my girlfriend, Jess," he cleared his throat, "I had nightmares about her dying for a long time, until it finally happened."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She clutched her chest and frowned. "That's horrible."

He shook his head. "It feels like ages ago." He looked up at the ceiling and huffed. "I've saved some people, too. You know, "he smiled, "it's kind of a gift in a way. I have nightmares about people, and we go and we try to save them. I uhm, I actually saw your mother…."

"Really?" She stared at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah, but, when I researched her, she had already passed away," he peered up at her. Rhiannon sucked in her lips and nodded slowly. "We knew it was the work of a demon when we got here. We wanted to see what was up."

"Apparently a lot," she let out a short chuckle but it was replaced with a frown.

"She was your _real_ mother, right?"

"Of course," she replied without hesitation. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Oh…" he said, "the only reason I ask is because my mother died in a house fire, and the last psychic boy I met, Max, his mother died the same way. I thought it could have been a pattern or… something."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm sorry about your mom." Sam didn't say anything. "What about your dad?"

Tears stung Sam's eyes. He shook his head. "He, uh, just recently passed away, actually."

"Jesus," she put her head in her hands.

"Yeah, Dean and I, we uh, we think the Yellow Eyed Demon has something to do with it," he informed her.

"Why's that?" She asked curiously. Sam stood up and switched beds, sitting down next to Rhiannon.

"Well, it all started on the night of my six month birthday…"

Rhiannon listened intently to the story of Sam and Dean Winchester's lives. It was all too horror movie to be true, but deep down, she knew she believed every word he was saying.


	10. Keep Breathing

I don't own Supernatural or any of the songs that I use. The only characters I've made up are Rhiannon and her family!

Please enjoy! & Tell me what I need to work on or how I'm doing so far. Is anything not clear?:) Love you all!

* * *

_The storm is coming but I don't mind_

_People are dying, I close my blinds_

_All that I know is I'm breathing now_

_All we can do is keep breathing now_

_- Ingrid Michaelson_

Dean fell through Rhiannon's bedroom with poise, or at least, that's what he liked to call it. The thump his body made as he landed on the floor was barely audible. He army crawled over to her bed and pulled up the bed skirt in search of her suitcase. His tongue poked through his lips as he focused on finding the hard leather bag. Once his fingers found something large and square, he pulled it out forcefully and plopped it on top of her bed.

He started wandering around Rhiannon's room. It was a delicate shade of blue, with white trimming and lace curtains. He could see another room across the hall with floral wall paper and the same lace curtains. He figured it was her parent's bedroom.

He tip toed quietly across the carpeted floor, cringing whenever he thought his weight would ensure a deadly creak. No such squeaking occurred. He let out a short breath and walked over to her dresser triumphantly. His fingers grabbed one of the drawer knobs and pulled it open. "Score!" He grinned childishly when he saw it was her underwear. He didn't know how long Rhiannon would be staying with them, so he just dumped everything into her suitcase. He emptied the drawers one by one, shirts, pants, bras, socks, pajamas, everything. When he saw how many classic rock tee-shirts she had in her possession he grinned, at least he would have somebody to talk to about music while they were on the road. Sam's pansy music was starting to get on his nerves.

As he started zipping up the suitcase, he noticed that her closet door was open. He grabbed his gun instinctively and walked over to it cautiously, reaching his hand out to tear it open. But there was nothing but a few dresses, an old dollhouse, and a case filled with Rhiannon's old grade school things inside. He grabbed a piece of paper that had a few figures drawn on it. Over the colorful figures were names that said _Mom, Dad, Jason, and Rhiannon. Dean smiled sadly, running his fingers across the old crayon. Everything was perfect in the picture, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and everyone was smiling. He sighed and placed it back where it belonged. He closed the closet doors, staring at the animated family until he couldn't see them anymore._

When he turned around he took a good look around the room. It was decorated with things that one would have collected over their lifetime. Pictures, drawings, and notebooks were scattered all over the place. Posters of Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, and various movies cluttered the walls. Her acceptance letter from Berklee hung on the highly decorated cork board above her bed. Next to it was a picture of Rhiannon with her mother and father, a copy of the same one that had been shattered at his feet when he had rescued her that afternoon at the mechanic.

If Rhiannon was anything like his brother, Dean felt sorry for her. He knew how bad Sam felt all of the time, knowing things before they happened, like Jessica's death. Sure, some good things came out of it like saving that family who lived in their old home, but that didn't take away the pain, the constant fear of something bigger than you going on without you even knowing what it was. They had seen what it did to Max. If Sam was going to end up like that… Dean shook his head, remembering what his father had told him the day that he died. He had taken a part of the puzzle piece with him to his grave. It was so vague and depressing, what he had told Dean. He didn't want to think about it, couldn't. But something had been gnawing at him since they found at Rhiannon was psychic, would he have to do the same thing to her?

Dean huffed and started tearing the blue thumb tacks out of the picture. He tossed it into her suitcase and started looking around her room for anything else she would miss. This wasn't just a regular case. There was a definite chance she wouldn't be home any time soon. He grabbed a few of the notebooks that were sitting on her nightstand, her laptop, charger, phone, iPod, wallet, and flash drive that were all inside of her nightstand, and a photo album that was nestled between two really worn out books in her bookshelf (which he managed to stuff inside of her bag, too).

There was one thing he was forgetting, though. He glanced around, trying to remember. "Ah!" He whispered, noticing her guitar case leaning up against the wall. He walked over to it and grabbed it quickly, being careful not to give himself away to anyone who could be in the house.

Just as he was about to climb back out of the window, he heard a soft sob coming from the hallway. He placed her guitar and suitcase onto the roof and stepped out in a hurry, ducking so nobody would see.

The sobbing grew closer, and he peeked over the window frame to get a better look. It was Rhiannon's father. He looked pretty bad. A black eye was forming around his left eye. He had a bad cut on his lip, and bruises all over his jaw. Dean closed his eyes tightly at the thought of him and his brother doing that to the poor man.

As Mr. Alexander walked into his daughter's room wearily, Dean ducked again, his heart rate sky rocketing. He started to creep down the roof, but then her dad started talking.

"I wish you were here, Claire," Mr. Alexander sobbed. "You always had the answers…" he sniffled. Dean listened. "She's gone, our baby. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I can't remember…I'm not… She didn't even…" A heart wrenching sob tore through his throat. Dean closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. As far as Mr. Alexander was aware, Rhiannon was dead, and if they were going to figure anything out, it had to stay that way.

When Mr. Alexander started sobbing uncontrollably, Dean took his chance to climb off of the roof. He tossed the suitcase onto the ground, gritting his teeth, praying it wouldn't make a sound. He kept the guitar in his hand and jumped. Once he was back on solid ground he picked up her suitcase and ran towards the Impala.

* * *

"So, you think your Dad sold his soul to the Yellow Eyed demon in exchange for Dean's life?" Rhiannon asked in awe. The story of The Winchester's was incredible, the amount of dedication they had to one another left her speechless.

Sam nodded sadly, "and he got the Colt, too."

Rhiannon shook her head. "Seems like a very dedicated father if you ask me, though the Colt being gone sucks."

Sam chuckled. "He was," he smiled to himself, "I just wish he knew how much he meant to me."

"I'm sure he does, Sam," Rhiannon grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You were his kid, kids fight with their parents, doesn't mean we don't love them any less."

Sam looked at Rhiannon and gave her an appreciative smile. She gave him one in return and pulled her hand away.

"Dean's really torn up about it," he continued. "He doesn't show it, but I know how badly it's affecting him."

Rhiannon nodded understandingly. "So… when the Yellow Eyed demon took control of your father's body, he told you that he had a plan for us?"

"'You and all of the other children like you'," he quoted in deep thought.

She let out a frustrated sigh. "I wish I knew what the hell that meant." She stood up and started pacing the room.

"Me too. You have no idea," he grinded his teeth together angrily. "I want to get rid of this bastard."

Rhiannon tapped her finger on her chin as she walked around the room. "Well, you said that you've made the connection to you and Max. Max, right?" Sam nodded. "Well, maybe there are more people out there like us with the same thing. It's been consistent so far."

"Minus you," he pointed out. Rhiannon stood over by the window and looked outside. Silence flooded the room.

"We're being hunted, aren't we?" She asked calmly. Sam looked over at her. Before he had the chance to say anything, Dean barged in with her suitcase and guitar in tow.

"Here you go, Princess," he said as he placed her things on the floor beside the second motel bed. She walked over towards them slowly, running her hand across her guitar case. She knelt down on the ground and opened up her suitcase. When she saw everything he had put inside, she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Wow...Dean, thank you!" was all she could say. Sam looked into her bag and then gave Dean a look. He made a face at him and shrugged.

"I didn't know what was important or not. Anyway," he waved her thanks away, "who knows how long you'll be stuck with us, right? Might as well make the best of it." He collapsed onto the motel bed Sam was sitting on and crossed his legs, putting his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes. She picked up the photo album and turned it over in her hands. Dean opened one eye to see what she was doing. A small smile spread across her face as she saw that he had also managed to somehow include two of her favorite books: 1984 by George Orwell and On the Road by Jack Kerouac. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes again, trying to get comfortable.

She started dumping everything onto the bed and folding everything, Dean had just sort of thrown everything in at once. About ten minutes passed. "Hey," she spoke into the silence. The boys each looked at her. She turned to look at Dean. "Did you see my Dad?"

Dean opened his mouth but then closed it again, thinking about what to say. He nodded, "Yeah. I did."

"Did he look okay?" She asked him, holding the picture of her and her parents to her chest. Dean noted this and chose his next words carefully.

"Yeah," he smiled, "he looked fine." He watched her as she looked back down at the picture in her hands. He frowned, remembering the state her father had been in when he hopped off of their rooftop.

Rhiannon studied her parents faces. She didn't know when she would ever see her dad again and the daunting thought haunted her to no end, even worse than her nightmares, her visions.

_This is it_, she thought. _This is the big change that I've been waiting for. _"You know," she started, "All of my life I've been waiting for a change..." sam and Dean hung onto her every word, "i never thought it would be this monumental."

"Join the club, sweetheart." Dean closed his eyes again. Rhiannon sighed, placing the picture back into her suitcase. Sam waited for it...

"I told you not to call me that," Rhiannon shot back at Dean, throwing a balled up shirt at Dean's face. His eyes shot open as the material hit his face. Sam laughed. Dean couldn't fight back his smile either.

"So what's your plan of action?" She asked them as she dug through her suitcase for a pair of sweatpants.

Dean shrugged, throwing the shirt at Sam, who caught it. "We'll probably leave tomorrow morning, so, rest up now. We've got a long trip ahead of us."

Rhiannon stood up and held her hands out for her shirt. Sam threw it over to her. She disappeared behind the bathroom door. She dropped her cloths onto the ground and turned on the water full blast. After making sure there was a towel in the room, she stripped of her clothing and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over her soar body. Dirt and blood dripped from her skin. The knots in her hair untangled with every drop of water... She fought back the tears.

From the way Sam had put it while they were talking earlier, she would not be able to talk to her dad at all. She would have to change her cell phone number or get a new one. She would have to leave the world she knew, behind. No friends. No family. Maybe she'd even turn into an outlaw. But she had to find out what was going on with her, with Sam. They were a part of something, something bigger than anything she'd ever known. Rhiannon always had a feeling that she was meant for something more, but she never imagined this. Monsters belonged in horror movies, not her life. Demons were a child's worst nightmare, and nightmares stayed in your head. You didn't just leave your home with two strangers who weren't _really_ strangers because you had visions of them for the past year. You had headaches because of a sinus infection, not psychic abilities.

Rhiannon was never one to half ass something. There was no way Sam and Dean were lying. She knew that they were telling the truth. She had seen them in her dreams, seen her mother die, seen the Yellow eyed demon speaking to her. A storm was coming, she could feel it in her bones, and she would do anything to find out what the hell was going on.

But Rhiannon couldn't stop the tears from cascading down her face. It was like somebody broke a dam and now the water wouldn't stop coming in. And even if she was apart of something larger than life, she still thought she deserved a few minutes to herself.

* * *

Sam sat down on the edge of Rhiannon's bed. He decided he would sleep on the floor tonight. Out of curiosity, he picked up her photo album and started leafing through the pages. He smiled at the various pictures of her with her brother and her friends. There were a few candid shots, and a very professional looking one of her on a stage playing the piano.

"You hear her, don't you?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "Give her a break, Dean. She's had a rough day."

Dean sat up and looked at Sam. "Is she going to be your little pet project? You find another psychic kid like you and now you're all gung ho on gettin' the neighborhood gang together?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam shot back.

Dean stood up and stood in front of his brother. "_'I think it would be good to have someone around who knows what we're going through?'_"

Sam rolled his eyes and closed the photo album. "You know I didn't mean it like that, Dean."

"Oh yeah? Then how did you mean it? Because it sounded pretty clear to me that you think I have no idea how you're feeling right now," Dean said aggressively.

"All I meant was that... you're not psychic like me, Dean, okay? Rhiannon has this ability like me, and yes, it would nice to have somebody around who understands how it feels to have these nightmares and foreshadowing of the deaths of others and whatever psychic horse crap is gonna come along with whatever the yellow eyed demon has in store for us."

Dean scoffed. "Well, way to make me sound like an ass," Dean retorted, sitting back down on the bed. Sam clenched his jaw and gazed at the bathroom door.

He didn't care if Dean was angry. He knew that having Rhiannon around would be a good thing. She wasn't damaged like Max had been. There was still hope for them. "We could use an extra hand anyway, Dean," he told his older brother.

"Does she even know how to work a gun?" He exclaimed. "She seemed pretty freaked when she saw mine!"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, but we can teach her."

"Hey, whoa whoa whoa," he waved his hands, "I didn't sign on to be a damn _nanny_, okay? It was fine when she was just some damsel in distress we'd never meet again, but this is taking it too far."

"Your ego is just bruised because she turned you down multiple times, you'll get over it," Sam smiled.

"Whatever," Dean huffed. "You're lucky she's cute."


End file.
